


O Valley of Plenty

by Parrannnah



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bottoming from the Top, Geralt's Canonically Giant Cock, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Titty-fucking, Topping from the Bottom, Uncut Geralt, Uncut Jaskier, with a side of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22438351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parrannnah/pseuds/Parrannnah
Summary: Jaskier really loves Geralt's chest.Geralt lets him do something about it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 25
Kudos: 419
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	O Valley of Plenty

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure porn with a hint of feelings at the end.
> 
> For the tomato gang, who indulge my kinky nonsense at ungodly hours of the morning.
> 
> Unbeata'd, all mistakes are my own, etc etc etc.

Jaskier isn't embarrassed to ask for what he wants, usually, but this thing that he’s thinking, what he is dreaming of doing, is very much out of his normal realm of requests.

But Geralt, being Geralt, starts noticing how, whenever he has Jaskier on his back beneath him, his sweet bard likes to bury his face in Geralt's chest, how he mouths at it, lips and teeth and tongue feeling the firm muscle and wiry hair, drags his nose up and down the deep cleft between Geralt's ample pecs. 

And so one day, Geralt asks. "Do you like them?" he says, hands kneading the firm flesh. "You always seem so....fixated.”

Jaskier blushes and nods, shy for the very first time in his life, and Geralt, who likes Jaskier mouthy and brash, grabs him by the back of the neck, pushing him to his knees. "None of that, Jas. Tell me."

So Jaskier does, babbling and rambling about how he loves Geralt's tits, how he loves the way they clench and they bounce when he's fucking Jaskier, the way they pull at the buttons on shirts, how he noticed Geralt adding more buttons with loop closures instead of buttonholes to fix the problem, how he loves the feel of them pressing against his back when they ride double on Roach, the weight of them in his hands when he gets up the nerve to pluck and twist at Geralt’s nipples while he rides him. How he loves the hair they're covered in, how it feels against his face, and how he's wondered how it would feel on other parts of him.

"You want to fuck them, you mean," Geralt says, and it's not quite a question so much as a statement. Jaskier stumbles over an emphatic yes, still babbling as Geralt walks to the saddlebags on the floor of their rented room and retrieves the flask of oil, the good kind that smells only very faintly of almonds, the kind that won't bother his nose when it's so close to his face.

Geralt walks to the bed, pulling his shirt over his head as he goes, before lying down and pouring the oil over his chest, rubbing it in until its glistening and slick, and then adding more, watching as it pools in the center of his chest. He quirks an eyebrow at Jaskier. "Well. Come on then. Come show me how much you love them, hmm?"

Jaskier, never one to turn down a certainly once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, fumbles with his trousers, tripping across the room as he strips out of them, throwing them and his doublet and shirt behind him as he walks to the bed, clambering up until he's straddling Geralt's broad chest, hands coming up to smooth the oil across the skin so it shimmers in the firelight from the hearth, tweaking dusky nipples and threading his fingers through the curly hair.

Geralt brings the oil flash up again, pouring some onto Jaskier's cock, flushed red and more erect than he’s ever been in his life, the foreskin pulled taut as it rolls back from the head, precome dripping from the slit, stringing it’s way down to join the oil. Geralt smirks up at him for how eager he is, gold eyes dark with lust and want. 

"I won't last long," Jaskier breathes heavily, knowing he is going to embarrass himself.

"Then you'll have to try harder next time, won't you?" Geralt teases, and Jaskier nearly has a heart attack at the promise of a next time, before he feels Geralt’s broad hands wrapping around his hips and pulling at them to get him going. Jaskier has to brace himself on the headboard, hands shaking too much to push Geralt's tits together to make a space for himself, but Geralt knows, he always knows, just what Jaskier needs. 

The sensation is more than he could have imagined, slick and rough at the same time, hot and tight but firm and unyielding in a way no other place he's ever fucked a person has been. His cock slips through the tight passage over and over, the hair scraping against the delicate skin, a sensation so foreign and staggering that Jaskier feels his hips stuttering as he fights to get himself under control.

He's a mess, a noisy, incoherent mess, and if it wasn't for Geralt looking debauched, too, hair wild and eyes almost as black as when he’s taken one of his potions, whispering encouragement in a voice even rougher than usual, he wouldn't be able to keep it together long enough to do anything, let alone finish. 

Jaskier is close, he knows he is, and of course Geralt knows, too. "Do it, Jas, come on. Finish for me, mark them, make a mess, there's a good boy." 

Jaskier chokes on his breath as his orgasm is ripped out of him, his own spend adding to the slick mess of Geralt's chest. He holds himself up for a moment more, and watches over his shoulder as Geralt tears at the buttons of his trousers with one hand whilethe other swipes at his chest, gathering a mix of come and oil before reaching down to wrap his hand around his large cock, even Geralt’s large palm and long fingers barely reaching all the way around his impressive girth. It doesn’t take him long, Jaskier hasn’t even come down all the way from his post-orgasm high, and he feels his cock twitch valiantly as he watches Geralt stroke himself off with Jaskier’s come.

Geralt tenses and grunts as he reaches his own peak, thick ropes of seed shooting so hard they land square on Jaskier’s ass where it still rests on Geralt’s ribs. Geralt’s hands come up and rub at it, massaging into Jaskier’s skin, rubbing the scent of their coupling into the tender flesh.

“Thank you,” Jaskier says as he leans down to kiss his Witcher. “That was...everything.”  
Geralt leans up and kisses Jaskier back firmly, a tired and satisfied smile on his lips. 

“Always, Jaskier. Anything for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/KatAtomic2/) I’m also still on [Tumblr!](https://kat-atomic.tumblr.com/) so come hang out!  
> 


End file.
